


Burning

by Yeonni



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Desire, Friendship, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Open Relationships, POV First Person, Passion, Yeonniverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12616508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeonni/pseuds/Yeonni
Summary: TAEMIN - FriendshipMaybe he wanted to ask me to shut up about what I'd seen. Somehow, that'd feel much worse. It would be a final betrayal if he doesn't even trust me to have a shred of sense. But so far, he hasn't said a word.HYUK - DesireI see emotions passing through his eyes, although he manages to keep them off his face. Whoever he met with tonight, whoever his lips were on before they were here with me, that person wouldn't be able to see it. Wouldn't know him as well as I do. Right here he's mine.RAVI - PassionNot too long ago, there was another person who turned out the most beautiful I've ever seen him, one evening. An accidental harmony; maybe those are the most beautiful because there's no intention, no human motive, just the feeling. The moment had been perfect, but the aftermath complex.KAI - LoveI came here to be seen. I worked this hard and sacrificed everything to be seen, and yet I have this gnawing feeling sometimes that nobody really sees me. That maybe I worked too hard, so I didn't know how to just be me anymore. Whenever he says that cheesy line, you're so beautiful, I feel like I'm seen, and I find the person that I sometimes lose sight of; myself.





	Burning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Adventures of L.Joe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11958003) by [Yeonni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeonni/pseuds/Yeonni). 



> An off-shoot of my much more whimsical ongoing long monster The Adventures of L.Joe. Kai's complicated love life is only briefly mentioned, but since I had a fleshed out idea of what was going on I figured I might as well.

 

**Part 1 – Taemin – Friendship**

I stand with him in front of the mirrors, I stand here almost every day, and often he's right there, right next to me. Although not as often as I'd want. Most of the time I'm the youngest around; it comes with benefits of course, but there are some times where I wish I could do or say something and it simply isn't possible. But it is with him. No rules, no barriers, no secrets. We could be rivals, we could motivate each other by competition; instead we work twice as hard to make sure we're both better than we could be alone. That's the kind of person he is, and, if I can say it myself, the kind of person I am as well.

I had no illusions. We're in a cutthroat business, and even if we were friends in dancing and, eventually, everything else, we both always knew. Like an unspoken agreement that if worst came to worst, each one would save himself. That's the way things have to be here. Even so I imagined there was no distance between us, up to that point. That unless faced with the very end, we'd stand shoulder to shoulder. As time passed, I got used to that idea and I figured it'd always be like that.

Things change, of course. When we met he wasn't EXO Kai. In the beginning I only called him Kai to tease him. But these days, it's almost easier to say that name. Because he's changed, and there's something in him that's become more grown up. At times I'd look at him and think he was maturing away from me. I'd tell myself I was being paranoid. Not anymore. I can't pretend nothing is wrong anymore. Not after yesterday.

He's doing his damned best to, though. Not a word, not a look, have betrayed any emotion. Was he always this good at pretending, I wonder? Did he always hide things from me? In childish protest I refuse to bring it up. If he wants to keep secrets, let him, I curse under my breath. See if I care. So here we are, in front of the mirrors, two old friends dancing as if everything was as it's always been. Even though nothing will ever be the same again.

Yesterday, late, Wonshik called me out to play ball. Occasionally he'd come out with us, when he had the time, but he'd never called me like that before. Usually we'd call him once in a while and half the time he'd be busy or say no. I couldn't sleep, so I went. It was barely warm enough to be out like that, I'd worn too little and already when I arrived I was eager to start playing so I'd get warm. Wonshik was there in sweater, vest and baggy pants, hood up, looking a little sleepy.

“Let's play,” I said, and he nodded, although I felt like there was some resistance in him. Like he wasn't there to play. A few minutes in however, I'd provoked the tiger in him. For a while it was just me and him on the field, two guys panting and sweating, eyes focused, feet shuffling. All or nothing. But then he looked around, and I feinted left and went around him, and realized he hadn't tried to stop me at all. When I checked over my shoulder, he was checking his phone.

“What's up?” I asked, scoring first to be sure before I turned around and came back to him.

He glanced over at me. “You heard anything from Kai?”

“Was he coming too?”

Wonshik gave a little nod. “I meant, in general. You talk to him lately?”

“All the time,” I said.

“He say anything? Or seem strange to you?”

“No,” I said, because we hadn't really _talked_ talked. We only did that in person, and there hadn't been any time to meet. So all I had was little jokes and cheers and updates about his days. “He was busy this whole week, he said. Did he say he was coming?”

Wonshik shrugged. “Oh well, let's play.”

The park was lit up by street lamps, but the area around the basketball court was turning into opaque darkness by the time he showed up. Walked out of the darkness like a scene out of a movie, hands in his pockets, chin up. Wonshik and I spotted him at the same time and stopped, and Kai walked straight up to us, not answering my greeting. Staring down Wonshik.

“What's he doing here,” he said, and for a second I thought he meant Wonshik, before Kai twitched his head in my direction.

What was I doing here? “Heey,” I said.

Ravi, and I say Ravi because he was suddenly in his stage persona, calm and cool and full of attitude, nodded at the basketball hoop. “Come on, let's play.”

“That's what you have to say to me?” Kai asked. “That's why you called me out here? _Let's play_?” I thought they'd had a fight, a regular one, like friends do sometimes. Except Kai seemed so serious. “You coward.” Kai's eyes narrowed dangerously. “You even brought him along, like protection. Did you tell him? That you're using him?”

“Heey, calm down,” I tried, hoping to be able to mediate. When I reached out for Kai, he jerked away.

“You don't know what this is about,” he said, like an accusation.

That was true, but only because neither of them told me. “Then what is it about?” I asked.

“Taemin,” Kai said. “Please go home.” Maybe I looked as hurt as I felt, because he made an appeasing face. “I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow.”

I hesitated. More than I felt hurt, I felt sorry for him, in that moment. He seemed like he was in pain.

“Come on,” Ravi said. “Let's just play some ball. Friends. Like it's supposed to be.”

“You think I won't do anything because he's here?” Kai demanded, moving in on Ravi.

“I thought I might need his help to calm you down,” Ravi said, holding up his hands, palms forward. The universal sign of coming in peace.

Kai was not coming in peace. “You fucking heartless bastard,” he growled under his breath and grabbed Ravi's vest.

I didn't think Kai would punch a guy who didn't fight back, and Ravi was still holding his hands up, so I wasn't in a hurry to break them up. Next thing I knew, Kai pulled Ravi in and captured his mouth in a kiss, wild and angry, more like an assault than the romantic pecks from movies. I froze. Ravi fought out of it, for a second I thought he'd punch Kai. Then with a snarl Ravi yanked him back, Kai barely maintaining balance, and kissed him with the same reckless hunger.

The world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them. I was still frozen in place, not knowing where to go, what to look at, so my eyes were locked on them. But I was probably the one with most sense left, and I had to look out for them.

“Kai,” I said, “You can't do that here.”

Ravi let go of him, and Kai came up drawing for air like breaching the water surface. Looked over at me, eyes wide, with what I couldn't tell, and said, “Taemin, go home.”

Like I was a child out past my bedtime.

People did that to me sometimes. I never thought Kai would. But more than that, I _felt_ like a child. Watching them go at it like that made me realize nothing I had done could compare to the raw need in them; I had never felt anything nearly as devouring as the desire that burned white-hot around them.

“Please,” Kai said, and my eyes caught Ravi's fingers closing around his wrist, by the side where he might think it was out of my sight.

I remember thinking, Kai is _my_ friend. If anyone should go home, it's Wonshik, so we can talk about this. But this, I reminded myself, is all we are. This friendship was always one that could be tossed aside when the need arose. So I turned and walked away. Thinking, somehow, that even if I always thought of us as equally cutthroat, I also always knew it would be Kai who cut the rope.

It wasn't until I woke up this morning that I started thinking about what I'd actually seen; what it actually meant. How long had they been together this way, right under my nose? There was no point in being angry about being deceived; I'd have done the same in their position, and I expected the friendship to be over anyway. With the cat out of the bag, Kai might as well go be best friends with Ravi. No need to keep up pretenses with me.

So I was surprised when he called me, still very early, and asked if we could move the dance practice we'd agreed on today to earlier in the morning. Because something had come up unexpectedly with EXO. Or so he said. Maybe he wanted to ask me to shut up about what I'd seen. Somehow, I'd feel much worse if that is what he wants to say. It would be a final betrayal if he doesn't even trust me to have a shred of sense.

But so far, he hasn't said a word.

I glance over at him in the mirror while finishing the current sequence – I could do it in my sleep by now – and his eyes are focused on his own movements, but they're burning. We dance, and I study him in a way I've never done before, because he can't see me. I can see it here, in his dancing. The emotion that isn't on his face. A fire that is burning him up from the inside. And my instincts say, cut your losses and run. Don't get involved, or whatever this is, it will burn you all to blackened coal.

I think about that the whole practice through. We barely speak, only a word or two to spot tiny mistakes, we're both going on automatic. Soon I'll have to leave. I can't read Kai's face, can't figure out why he isn't talking, or why he called me out. Can't decide if he wants me to bring it up or not. Can't decided if I want to. I'm distracted, and I'm looking at Kai instead of myself, and I lose my balance for just fraction of a second, slipping sideways.

Kai's hand is there before I've even really understood what's happening, and I grab it while falling. The potential disaster is instead a barely noticeable slip and then I'm pulled back up and Kai lets go and goes back to his dance. If anyone had been watching us, I think they wouldn't even know how completely I screwed up.

We were just dancing friends, and then we were more, and even if we're going back to just being dancing friends, those can lean on each other too, on the dance floor and off it. So what if we burn? I went into this business to burn, one way or another. So I ask the one question that really matters. “Do you love him?”

Kai's movements turn into slow motion as he finishes the swing. Then he blinks and finally really sees me in the mirror for the first time this practice. “He doesn't love me,” he says.

That is problematic, but not an answer to the question. “But do you love him?”

Kai's eyes close. “Fuck yes.” He turns around and walks a few steps away, to the wall where we've left the water bottles, his shoulders slumping like he's been defeated, and sits down.

My instincts still tell me to run. But I walk over and sit with him. Because ambitious and stubborn and sometimes selfish, I still love him. I believe I've hitched my wagon to his, without noticing. It's a frightening thought, so I push it aside to focus on the now. On what he has to say.

“Are you angry?” Kai asks and glances up at me.

I shake my head. I'm not even sure what I would be angry about.

“You know I would have told you, but I didn't really know myself. I mean, we've only talked about this once, and... I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear it.”

He's talking about things in general, about being interested in guys, although he's told me before it's only been on a theoretical level. This is a big deal for him. Of course people are worried about that kind of thing, and should be, but it hadn't entered my mind. I'm more interested in the specifics. “Why him?”

Kai lets out a pained breath. “Why not him,” he says. “I don't know. I didn't. Like him. Not when we started hanging out, I thought he was a bit... obnoxious.” He laughs. “Well, he is.”

Once again I'm reminded that I'm dealing with something I can't quite comprehend. The way he says that, like the flaw itself is something to be proud of, something beautiful, it's like how couples talk about their partner. I'm at once jealous and worried. He just said Wonshik doesn't love him back.

“Is he gay?” I ask.

Kai looks surprised for a moment. “Um, he came on to me. Like I said, I wasn't really interested in him. But...” He seems a little shy. “You don't want to hear this.”

I consider that. Do I? “Would you tell me about it if it was about a girl?”

Kai's turn to think. “Probably,” he says.

“Then tell me,” I say. We've talked about girls in general, but never specific girls, except a few we've met on shows. Not a lot though. There's never been space in either of our lives for that kind of stuff. I sometimes wondered if Kai was ever interested in talking about it, but he never talked about guys so I didn't ask. Maybe he suffered through faking it and listening to me going on about it, just to be my friend.

“It was a few months ago,” Kai says, eyes darting, hands picking at the water bottle nervously. “We were out, you know, and you had to leave early. We were just playing one-on-one, and it, I just... suddenly he was all in my space, and then we were fighting because he was... I mean he was touching, and I had to defend myself, I didn't know why he was doing it. And somehow fighting turned into kissing, and...” Kai shrugged.

“On the court?” I ask, remembering their reckless kissing yesterday. Fans sometimes took pictures of us playing, they really shouldn't take the risk.

“What?” Kai's eyes widen comically. “No! No, not... that! Not there, no, well, we kissed, I suppose, but I meant, he said, he said,” Kai shrugged again, like he couldn't control it, he just had to, “we should get off together sometime. That's what he said.” His cheeks turned a rare shade of pink.

I smile at the idea of it all. Can imagine Ravi's voice saying it in Kai's ear, all bad boy rapper, and Kai blushing like a virgin. He dances like the devil, but he's really kind of shy. Or he was, I mean. “Did you do it?”

“Ah,” Kai sighs and stares at me helplessly. “You're so calm about this!”

“I'm really going crazy on the inside,” I say. I lean in so I can glance up at him through my lashes, all innocent big eyes, a trick that I've used on the hyungs so much that it doesn't work anymore, but to Kai it's new. “So did you?”

“Agh!” Kai pushes my face away, blushing. “Yes,” he admits, turning away. I can hear his smile in his voice. “Yes, I did. I wasn't going to.” He shakes his head. “It's stupid, it was really stupid, but I did anyway. A couple of times. He's... he's actually really sweet. In between the obnoxious.”

I can't help it, Kai calling Ravi 'really sweet' has me giggling. I try to hide it under my hand, but Kai still glares at me.

“I know,” Kai says. “It's disgusting.”

“It's very sweet,” I say, and start giggling uncontrollably.

Kai tries to be hurt and upset, I can actually see him trying to control his expression, but then he starts giggling too and hitting me with the water bottle. I try to fend it off. “Okay, okay, stop, stop.” It actually kind of hurts. “I'm sorry, I won't laugh.”

“To be honest, I'm glad you're laughing. I thought you might... I mean, a lot of other people would do a lot of other things.”

I take a sip of water and shake my head. “I already know people like that. Guys who like guys.”

“Oh.” Kai seems surprised but is holding back curiosity. “Oh, okay then.”

“So what was that about, yesterday?”

Kai looks uncomfortable. “Wonshik talked me into... doing something... more.” He bites his lip, glancing at me, maybe trying to judge if he's saying too much.

“Did you fuck?”

Now I said too much. Kai chews some more on his lip and looks away. “That sounds so crass,” he says slowly. We're back here again, in this place where I can see his heart bleeding. I hate that I'm not sure if I should pat his shoulder or not. “It's my fault too, I know that. I assumed, because we did something like that... I mean, you'd have to trust someone a lot, to do it, knowing the risks. I thought that him asking to do that meant that...” Kai loses himself, just staring into the corner. Trying to figure out who he had been in that moment, like how sometimes you turn into a stranger to yourself. “Nothing changed though, he was the same. So sweet... so good, before and in bed, and then back to being friends, like nothing happened. I mean I know we can't date or hold hands in public, but even in private he'd just switch, like it meant nothing.”

That wasn't it though. Kai wouldn't blow his top and do something like what had happened yesterday over that; he has too much self-control. “There's someone else,” I realize as I say it.

Kai nods. Grimaces. “ _Several_ else, far as I understand. He has old _friends_ from before VIXX, he has new _friends_ in the business...” his face sets in a grim mask. “Far as I know, he might be _friends_ with his own members, who knows. I found out, I fought with him over the phone, it was stupid and pointless and I don't know why I even... what did I expect him to say?” He sighed. “Then he called me out, and I was busy but I went anyway, yesterday, you have no idea how much I got yelled at this morning for running out. But I thought that he might...”

“Change,” I fill in. Because that's what we all hope. That other people will change for us.

Kai sighs again. “He's not going to change. He's not going to... I don't know what I'm hoping for anyway, we can't date or anything. This is as good as it gets. _Friends_.”

I've never heard him so bitter. We've discussed the price of doing what we love, the cost of fame, the sacrifices and the hoops we've jumped through, but I've never heard him sound like that. I wish there was something I could say to make it better.

Kai glances up and hesitates. I nod to encourage him to ask, ask anything, just say whatever is on his mind so we can get rid of this distance between us, that sits so awkwardly. “You've never...? I mean, he's not... told you or, like, done anything, to you, right?”

I'm disappointed, and for the first time, angry. Angry at Ravi for making Kai this way. Angry at Kai for being so weak and uncertain. Angry at myself for lashing out like this, wanting to punish him, wanting to protect him. I shake my head, not trusting my voice. I don't know what to say anyway.

Kai nods. “Always something.”

I don't want this anymore. I thought I could do it, but I can't. I didn't understand Kai's devotion, the depth of his emotion, even if I saw the evidence, I couldn't recognize it because I've never seen it before. Ravi will never change; no one ever changes. Kai's heart will drag them both down into the abyss before it suffocates on itself, and I don't want to go down with them, don't want to watch him fall. I didn't stand by him and work with him for this long to see him destroyed by something like this. This foolish, naïve, passionate guy.

I get up and meet my own eyes in the mirror. The only right thing I can do here is follow my own heart, and cut my losses and run. Let them crash and burn, and let VIXX and EXO crumble to dust around them. SHINee will fight on; I will prevail in their wake. Kai didn't have the strength to cut the rope, so I will.

“Thank you,” Kai says from the floor. I look over and he's leaning his head back against the wall, smiling at me. “I wasn't sure that you... I would never have gotten this far without you, and I'm not sure I can continue without you either. So I thought, even if you don't want to be my friend anymore, maybe we could still dance... I'd never have dared to talk about this myself. You were always more brave than me. So thank you for letting me talk about it.”

I hate what this is, where this is going. But I love him. I always did. That's why it was so important to remember, to keep my guard up, to make sure I knew that one day he'd leave or stab me in the back. To be ready to leave first, to not get left behind. I love him, and in the end, that's all that matters. I hold out my hand. “Get up. We've still got fifteen minutes, and you still turn your elbow out at the fifth beat.”

Kai takes my hand and is pulled up on his feet. “It's only like a few centimeters, no one will notice,” he whines, but I know he doesn't mean it, I know he'll work every waking moment to get rid of the flaw.

No one ever changes. But Kai is maturing into a man. And I, who have always kept this distance between us, finally let my reservations be swept away in the streams.

This ambitious and stubborn and sometimes selfish guy, who I thought might one day cut his losses and save himself, was it ever really about Kai, or was it my own mirror image I saw in him?

 

* * *

 

 

**Part 2 – Hyuk – Desire**

I open my eyes in the darkness and hear him return. And I know I should scratch my nose and roll over and go back to sleep like a good dongsaeng. I know that tomorrow, N-hyung will chew him up for leaving with no explanation, and threaten to tell the managers, and Ravi-hyung will be apologetic and deferential and look honestly sorry and Hongbin-hyung will hover around like a sad, quiet ghost until N-hyung lets it go. I know that none of this has anything to do with me. I'm the youngest. I don't even get to glare at him disapprovingly like Leo-hyung. I'm supposed to just ignore it - but I can't.

I get up and sneak out, and he's in the kitchen opening a bottle of water. Looks up at me as he pushes the hood down and runs his hand through his hair a few times. His eyes look tired, but happy. Satisfied. I scratch my nose as if I'm half asleep and look around.

“Water?” He holds the bottle out.

“Mm,” I say and accept it, taking a sip. He drank from it first. I wonder where his mouth has been, and take another mouthful before giving it back.

Not taking his eyes off me, he drinks again. “Is Hongbin asleep?”

I nod.

“Better not wake him up,” Ravi-hyung says to himself.

Does he talk to Hongbin-hyung about this stuff, when I'm not there? Is that why he asked? Something happened tonight and he wants to talk to Hongbin-hyung about it. Ravi-hyung puts away the water bottle and walks past me, patting my shoulder.

“Let's go to sleep.”

“Talk to me,” I say, spinning with his walk to stay facing him. Ravi pauses, stares at me like he's running the pros and cons in his head. I have to prove that I'm someone he can talk to; that I can be trusted. “Who did you meet tonight?”

For a terrifying second I think he might blow me off and go to bed. Then he says, “Taemin and Kai. We played some ball.”

I meet his eyes and keep my gaze steady and say, “Do you sleep with both of them?” His surprise is a great reward, but I want so much more. So much more. I wait for him to deny it, while trying to think about how to counter.

He steps back. Then comes back in and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Who have you talked to?” he asks, dragging me along.

“No one,” I say, trying not to let the surprise show.

“Then how do you know?”

“Hongbin-hyung didn't tell me, I figured it out,” I say.

“Hongbin?” His eyebrow comes up, just one of them. “What would Hongbin tell you?”

He's led me into the bathroom, and now he closes the door and locks it. Turns the shower on a little, the sound will mask the conversation from anyone that would try to listen in.

“Don't you tell him about this stuff?” I ask.

Ravi-hyung shakes his head. “I don't tell anyone,” he says. “How did you figure it out, exactly?” Looks curious, not angry.

“Does N-hyung know?” I ask.

Ravi-hyung shakes his head. “Nobody knows, I just said.”

I remember N-hyung's speech about talking about this stuff, telling the members to make it easier for everyone. “Doesn't everyone know about me?” I ask.

“Know what?” Ravi-hyung looks confused. “What are we talking about?”

“That um, that I'm gay? And you too?”

“Ah that.” He waves a hand dismissively. “I thought you were talking about meeting guys. Of course N-hyung knows that. Everyone knows that.”

“But not that you're... dating...”

He laughs, like I said something amusing. “I'm not dating.”

I don't know what to say to that. I know what he means, but I feel lost. The warm water is making the room hot and steamy and I can't think.

Ravi-hyung takes off the vest. “For a second there I thought you meant you were also sneaking out seeing guys,” he says. “Our little maknae, that'd be something to tell N-hyung!” He laughs and grins.

I hate him. No, I hate the way he still treats me like a child. I don't care about the others, but I hate that he does it, because it means he doesn't think of me like that at all. I'm his little brother, nothing more, when in reality I'm everything but his brother. I watch him take the hoodie off and I do something I promised myself and promised Ken-hyung that I'd never do; never tell, “I've hooked up with guys.”

This time both eyebrows come up. “You?” he says. He still doesn't believe me.

“Back when we shared hotel with Teen Top,” I say, feeling the dangerous ground I'm treading on shake beneath me. “When me and Ken-hyung worked on the transition with Changjo and L.Joe-hyung.”

Ravi-hyung's smile dies. The corners of his mouth comes down as the muscles relax and his face goes neutral, blank. “L.Joe-hyung?” he says.

I nod.

I swore not to tell anyone. Ken-hyung warned me off it, said to never ever tell anyone, not even the members, not only for my own sake but because L.Joe-hyung could get into terrible trouble as well. L.Joe-hyung was amazing and very nice, much nicer than he needed to be, and took care of me so well. I feel terrible; I am a terrible person for using him like that; using what we did together to get this hyung's attention like this, but I can't help it.

Ravi-hyung blows air out his nose. “I thought he was teasing me,” he said.

I remember L.Joe-hyung talking to him that last day, saying some strange stuff. At the time I was too busy being worried that he'd spill the beans, I didn't really listen. Now I wonder what exactly they said to each other.

“You're not allowed to make that kind of decisions alone,” Ravi said, eyes narrowing. ”We're supposed to talk in the team.”

Busted. But he's also sneaking around. I stick my chin out. “So?”

“N-hyung would kill you.”

“If you tell him, I tell him about you.” I regret it as soon as I've said it. It sounded childish. But Ravi-hyung snorts and smiles and comes even closer. I back up, I don't know why but it's like he's filling up the room and I can't stay, the air is thick with the steam.

“So, I guess I missed my chance,” Ravi-hyung says, leaning into my space, so close that his words blow hot air against my lips.

It's so warm, I'm sure if the air wasn't so humid it'd catch on fire. “I guess you did,” I hear myself say. I don't know why I'm saying it. I don't know what he's talking about or what I'm answering. I feel light-headed, like I'm not getting enough oxygen.

He licks his lips and drags his eyes up my body and I feel myself burn; I know that even if I fight against it my cheeks are turning red, but I can blame it on the warm water. His eyes find mine and the corners of his mouth play up into a little smile. “You want it?” he asks, eyes sparkling.

And I know at once that I can't. Can never let him know just how much I want it, how much I've wanted it for years now. How gradually, day by day, this friend turned into a man I couldn't take my eyes off, a man for whose sake I'd put everything on the line.

So I narrow my eyes and keep my chin high and I say, “Think you can live up to L.Joe-hyung? You know he's a legend.”

I see emotions passing through his eyes, although he manages to keep them off his face. I can see them because I know him so well, I think, and this odd pride shoots through me. Whoever he met with tonight, whoever his lips were on before they were here with me, that person surely wouldn't be able to see it. Wouldn't know him as well as I do. Only I know. Only I can see that what I said actually hurt him, pissed him off, turned him on. Right here he's mine.

When he shoots forward, grabbing my shirt, pushing me back against the wall, and his lips meet mine I think, strangely, that I won. By not letting on how much I wanted him, I'm the one who came out on top. So although all I've wanted for the last few years is exactly this – it's been constantly in the back of my head and quite a lot in the front too – I agress back only for a second and pull my head aside and bare my neck. He accepts it, latching onto my skin instead, greedy hands digging under my shirt. And I moan as his fingers dig into my side, only half from the shivers of pleasure it digs out of my body, the other half from the rush of power I get, feeling how much he wants me.

“Hyung,” I whisper, running my fingertips along the waist of his pants, “prove it to me. That you're better than L.Joe-hyung.”

He growls at hearing the name, pulling back and looking at me. I pull the shirt over my head and let my eyes drop. L.Joe-hyung talked to me about this. Told me what to do, how to do it. Let him wonder if he can have it. Then convince him he can, but only because he's lucky. Only because you're feeling generous today. Only because you're curious of what he can do. His eyes follow mine down to my crotch. Don't be afraid to let him see that you're hard, L.Joe-hyung said, it's good to show that you're turned on. It'll stroke his ego. But it's a comfortable place for you. You're not dying of need to get off; you're just hard, it happens, is he getting you off or not? Like that. I shift a little, sticking my hip out and he comes back in, leaning his hands on either side of my head.

“He sucked you? For real?”

I smile. Just that. I don't need to prove myself to him. I'm not trying to show off, for once. It really happened. And it was fantastic, so no need to fake that either.

He nips my jaw with a pointy canine and sinks to his knees in front of me, and I can't believe it, I can't believe it's really happening, it's really working. L.Joe-hyung knew his shit, that's for sure. A trail of kisses down my stomach and I try to control my breathing; mustn't seem too eager or too inexperienced. Ravi-hyung pulls my pants and underwear down and I casually step out of them, like I do this all the time, shove my junk in guys' faces every once in a while, no sweat. But I am sweating, and glad for the steam to provide a handy cover.

He doesn't hesitate. Ravi-hyung isn't the type to dither when he's decided something. And he goes to work on me like he's really out to prove something. I watch my cock slide in between his lips, glossy from the kissing, and I can barely keep breathing. The pressure builds up quickly, I try to focus on other things, on his thumbs digging in almost painfully into the insides of my thighs or on the steady noise of the rushing water, but my knees are going weak. I moan into my own hand, and I can't keep up the cool act anymore when I'm about to fall over. I squeeze my eyes shut.

Suddenly he's woven his arms in around my thighs and hitches up and my feet lift off the floor. I don't have any strength to oppose him with, I can barely think straight. My back slides down the wall while he carefully backs up with my legs. I try to catch myself on my arms and almost slip on the damp floor, but manage to keep from crashing down. So busy dealing with that, and trying to gather my head, I don't realize what he's doing until the first prod.

“Mm, hyung,” I say, push at him.

He captures my arm and holds it down against the floor. For a brief second his eyes meet mine, burning, before he leans down again, swallowing my dick in one lewd slide. I moan, and my whole body twitches up. And it doesn't get to come down without his finger slipping inside. He keeps fingering me, humming once, twice, around my cock, like he's chuckling at me. I can't pretend to be in control anymore. Even though L.Joe-hyung did this too, it's different with Ravi-hyung. He works his finger aggressively, digging deep, stretching. I don't understand what that means until he pulls out and comes back with two.

“Hyung, wait,” I say and my voice is strange and breathy and ragged and I don't like how I sound, all raw and begging.

“Did he do this?” Ravi-hyung asks, breaths hot against my pelvis.

“Mm, yes, yes,” I say.

“Just the finger or did he fuck you?”

I shake my head. The fine illusion I set up for myself, for us both, is crumbling. Fuck, fucking, Ravi-hyung is, he is really, he wants to fuck me. No, he's going to fuck me. I feel like it's a fact already, I don't have a say in it. His eyes are traps, locking me in place. “Just the finger,” I whisper.

“Mhm,” he says, licks his teeth when he comes back with three fingers and I moan and writhe as he wriggles them in little by little, pushing the way open. “You've never been fucked before?”

I shouldn't answer that, I know that, but his knowing smile and the knowing caress of his fingers deep inside me tells me what I should have known from the start; I was never in control. I was never going to win. He let me believe it, because it got him what he wanted. _You want it_ , he'd asked, but it'd been a trap. He'd already known the answer.

Shame and helplessness burn through me for falling for it, for making such a beginner's mistake and actually believing that someone like me could play someone like him. In a way, the shame sets me free. It doesn't matter how much I moan and squirm now, I've already made a fool of myself, I can't make it any worse. And whatever he thinks of me, it rushes through my mind that it doesn't matter, because he's going to fuck me. That's all that matters now.

The fingers disappear and return, briefly, covered in something slippery, maybe one of N-hyung's lotions, oh if only he knew. Ravi-hyung settles in between my legs and something else pushes against my opening, drives its way inside mercilessly. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it might, at any moment. I arch my back, tensing up although I know I shouldn't, nerves pulling my stomach into knots.

A gentle caress down my cheek, a kiss to my forehead. I open my eyes and find him leaning over me, my fingers curled against his chest, and I observe them with some kind of panicked distance, thinking that they look frightened, those fingers. Like the hands of a kid who's in over his head.

“Sanghyuk-ah,” he says gently. “Sanghyuk-ah, look at me.”

I meet his eyes and they pull me up, pull me over the edge back onto solid ground. It's him, it's Ravi-hyung, it's the person I've longed for and wanted for all this time, but more importantly it's my member, and my friend. Someone who loves me and wouldn't hurt me.

“Relax,” he says and rubs my stomach. His touch spreads warmth that softens up all those knots. “Do you want it?” There's no challenge this time, no hardness, only soft, gentle concern.

“Yes,” I whisper and wrap my fingers around his shoulders instead; pull instead of push.

For a moment I feel like I'll split apart and pass out, but then his thighs touch my ass, lava against lava, and he's in, he's really all the way in. I involuntarily draw for air. Like my body has decided there's no backing out now, only going forward, desire shoots through me like lightning. He's really inside me, stretching me to fit around him, and I want more, I want him deeper; I want him to fuck me.

“I want it,” I whisper, and roll my hips up against him.

He smiles.

He won't be rushed. Maybe he got worried about me before. He holds me in place and gently moves inside me, then out and in again. The first little fuck. I groan impatiently, lock my legs around his waist and try to force him to speed up, but this is his game now; it always was. I've watched him grind his hips dancing every other day for years and finally I get to experience the control he can exercise firsthand. The pace increases slowly but steadily, rocking me against the wall. I was already about to come before he started this, and there's a tinge of pain constantly at the edge of my consciousness, I can't hold on.

“Hyung, hyung, I can't, I'm going to...”

“It's okay,” he murmurs into my ear, slightly breathless from the fucking, “come for me, Sanghyuk-ah.”

I shudder from the way my name rolls off his tongue. “Kiss me.”

Maybe I have no business giving him orders, but he does what I want. Sucking on his lower lip desperately, fighting not to make too much noise and be heard through the shower and the door, I feel it coming. Orgasm rolls through me like a wave, sweeping away everything but him, his scent, his cock drilling my ass, his hips holding this maddening rhythm, the taste of his sweat against my tongue. He lazily strokes my cock while my jizz pools on my stomach, and I look down at it and moan.

“Do you mind if I keep going for a bit,” he asks, but it's not really a question, is it. I could as well try to take down the moon as deny him anything in this moment. I only moan incoherently and he takes it as what it is; permission to do whatever he wants.

Clinging on to him, like he could somehow keep me sane although he's the one driving me crazy, I close my eyes and let the experience fill my senses. My body is relaxing in a new way, twitching with each decisive thrust but otherwise freely handing over control to him. It makes him bolder. He goes harder, faster. The sound of him fucking me, at once disgusting and so damned hot, gets so loud I start worrying about someone hearing it. What if one of the hyungs wake up and want to go to the bathroom? I open my eyes just in time to see his close, and this irrhythmical edge comes into his hips, before he pulls out.

A strange, whining noise comes out of me when I realize he's not going to come inside me. I hadn't even realized that was what I wanted, but now robbed of it, I feel like someone tore delicious food out of my hands. I grab at him, but he's jacking himself fast, and then he's coming; thick white drops falling on my stomach, blending with my own.

He swears, almost like an afterthought, and lets his head fall.

L.Joe-hyung taught me one last thing. I'm not sure why, because I didn't succeed with the rest of it, but I still do this one thing. I draw my finger through one of the streaks on my stomach and, when I'm sure he's watching me, I suck my finger into my mouth. Let my eyes flutter shut as I suck it like candy, lick my lips and meet his curious gaze. “Mmm,” I say, and this time I love how my voice sounds, all thick and raw and used. “Hyung, you taste so good.”

And I see it. See what only I can see in his eyes, because I know him so well. Heat and want and amazement flaring, searing his bones.

The rest doesn't matter. I succeeded with this one thing, and that's enough. He got what he wanted, but so did I. I burned my mark into his mind. He won't forget that, I think, as my eyes drift shut. I've never been so tired in my life, yet at the same time so relaxed.

“Hyuk,” he says. I don't have the energy to answer. “Hyuk, you can't sleep here. You gotta clean up. C'mon.”

He drags me to my feet, props me up and helps me clean up in the shower, tries to get me to towel dry but gives up and just gets me back into my pants and underwear.

“Hyuk, you gotta go back into the room, I can't drag you in like this. Hongbin might wake up.”

“Who were you with, tonight?” I ask. Because I forgot to ask properly before; I only got his cover-up answer that he played basketball.

There is a moment's pause, as he lets me crash into the couch and throws a blanket over me. Then kisses my temple and says, “You,” before he fades into the night. I hear the door to our and Hongbin's room open and close.

Me.

 

* * *

 

 

**Part 3 – Ravi – Passion**

I tap my finger to the beat, riding the wave, wishing I could dance but Hongbin is asleep, and I better let him stay that way. He seems gentle, but there's a beast beneath. If he was a woman, he'd the the type that could stop your heart with one scalding look. I don't know what the corresponding thing is for a man, but whatever it is, that's him.

The melody comes to an abrupt stop and I try to twine the threads on. Close my eyes and instead of listening to the music, I feel it. Leo's character. This song is for him. I've composed these tiny pieces for all the members, trying to capture their essence. It's not like writing something they would sing, then I'd be thinking about their types of voices and their strengths. These compositions are a way to understand them. Every now and then something happens so I go back and change them. Today, Leo peeled a fruit for Ken out of the blue. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. Sometimes when Leo does things, no one wants to say anything, because if you say the wrong thing he might never do it again. It's a game of life and death with Leo. So I am changing the song, because it made me think that having a person like Leo around makes every moment important. Each second and reaction is critical. Before I had a calm base with a strong beat, for this quiet, pig-headed, eccentric hyung. Now I added a sharpness, something crisp and a little dangerous, that makes you feel just how alive you are.

Music is about feeling. Life is about feeling, really, that's why music is so important, I guess, why it speaks to people so well. I love the feeling, but I don't just want to feel it. I want to create it. I want to make music that mirrors life, and live a life that mirrors the music. The steady build up and the heavy drop; from the growling impact of a rap like a fist in your stomach to a sudden sheer high note like balancing on the knife's edge about to lose yourself.

Above Leo's song on my list is Hyuk's. I learned new things about Hyuk today too. I open the song and close my eyes listening to it. Did I really? Or did I always know? I stare at the notes, wondering. Did he always know?

I was played today, like an instrument, I know that. We all knew Hyuk can be a scheming little bitch sometimes, but I didn't expect that. I was just going to find out what he knew, tease him maybe, but things went completely out of control. I don't regret it. I want to ride the waves that life sends at me, and in that moment, Hyuk was the most beautiful I've ever seen him. In the faint bathroom light, with youthful defiance humming through his entire being, determined and fearless like only the inexerienced can be, he was like a work of art. In that moment, there was nothing either of us wanted more than to stay in that feeling, share it with each other.

Hyuk's song, it didn't change. Everything I learned about him today, I knew already. It wasn't because of a new side to him that things went as they went, but simply the complexity of the melody. Sometimes accidental harmonies randomly happens. I close the program and stare at the desktop. Not too long ago, there was a different person who turned out the most beautiful I've ever seen him, one evening on the basketball court. Another accidental harmony; maybe those are the most beautiful simply because there's no intention, no human motive, just the feeling. The moment had been perfect, but the aftermath complex. Now, with Hyuk, what will the aftermath be? I make no promises I can't keep, but people seem to make them for me, believe in things I've never said, accuse me of crimes I never committed. Like the friend on the basketball court, who I sometimes think I'm tearing apart and should leave alone to heal. But each time we fight, he looks so beautiful that we inevitably end up swept away by the feeling. How could I regret something like that, regardless of the consequences.

The silence of the night, the soft sounds of Hongbin's breaths, are like a calm and fine melody, maybe a flute or a violin. But considering the dramatic notes of the last few days, and the looming vibration of heavy bass that I can feel in my gut, this is the calm before the storm. This is the fade-to-dark moment with a spotlight on someone, maybe Ken, maybe Leo, singing that single gentle line, before the stage explodes with color and fireworks and I jump out, shouting my rap, challenging the world and snarling at the crowd. Rappers can fill any function a singer can, can build any emotion and take on any role, but that's where I'm most at home.

I set my things aside and lay back down in bed. Staring at the ceiling, I wonder if it'll be the same in real life. These last few days have been awkward and strange. Perhaps the storm that comes will feel more like home.

Finally I feel like I can sleep.

 

Hongbin pulls me up to sit.

“C'mon, rise and shine.”

I rub my eyes and think that he wouldn't be so cheerful if he'd gotten as few hours as I have, but that's the price I pay. Part of it, anyway.

Halfway through the routine there's a knock on the door.

“Oh?” N says, coming out of the bathroom, towel around his neck. “The managers weren't coming for another hour.”

“Why would they knock,” Leo says and looks over at the couch expectantly.

I'm not going anywhere. Hongbin looks at Hyuk, who raises his eyebrows in a _why me_ , and Hongbin pushes him out of the couch. Yawning, Hyuk hurries to the door and opens it. I can't hear what he's saying. Exchanging curious glances with the others, I head over, followed by Ken and Hongbin. Halfway there Hyuk comes back with someone in tow.

Kai.

Ken and Hongbin make surprised faces at each other. Hyuk is looking at me with something that looks a bit like worry. What has he got to worry about.

“I'm sorry,” Kai says to me. “Could I have a word.”

“You could have just called,” I say, but it's just stalling while I try to figure out what to do. The dorm doors aren't sound proof and whatever conversation we're having could get loud.

“N-hyung!” Hyuk calls, pushing past me. “N-hyung, we need the bathroom!”

I don't know what Hyuk tells N, or what the others believe. Leo has disappeared into the kitchen and is apparently staying there until the random bullshit stops happening, and Hyuk drags N and Ken that way.

Hongbin alone is left standing there by my side. He's not stupid, that one. Leo doesn't care enough to consider it; Hyuk can talk N and Ken down at least until I can make up something solid, but there's no fooling Hongbin. He looks concerned.

“We just need a moment,” I tell him.

He's frowning, quietly alarmed, but he steps out of the way, greeting Kai politely.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” Kai says as he walks past.

Hongbin doesn't answer.

“It's the same at our dorm,” Kai says, once we're in the bathroom. He's looking around, taking in the room, although there's nothing to see. A small bathroom like any other. “The only way to get privacy is in the bathroom with the shower on.”

I smile at him when I flick on the shower. He doesn't smile back.

Instead his hands creep into his back pockets and his eyes doesn't want to meet mine. “I didn't want to leave it like it was last night,” he says.

“Did anyone see you come here?” I ask.

He frowns, like he doesn't like the question, but still doesn't look at me. “No, no one. I bribed a staff to make him drive me here. I told him we had a fight and I wanted to fix it. I don't have to be anywhere until after lunch.”

His hair is so soft, I want to brush it out of his face and reassure him, but his body language says he doesn't want to be touched. “Um, so, what did Taemin say?”

“I haven't talked to him yet.” He tosses his head, gets the hair out of his eyes on his own. “I'm going to see him after this. If he wants to see me. Ever again.”

“Eyy, he'll see you. You have to talk to him.”

Now Kai's eyes come up. “You don't think he'll be okay?” he asks.

It's a sensitive question; a fragile moment. I watch his face, free of make-up, free of the mask he puts on for the cameras and the fans. Sometimes he feels so innocent, much more than Hyuk. And I weigh my words, considering what I want to say. “I think Taemin doesn't have a stake in this game. Wouldn't it make sense that he'd be worried about getting pulled into scandal? But I don't think he's an asshole, and he's known you a long time. He won't blow you off without talking to you. Something like that. Who knows, maybe he'll be okay.”

A dry smile plays over Kai's lips. “You're an asshole.”

“It's just what I think of him. Should I lie?” I ask. I don't know what he wants from me, I never knew, and it's not getting any clearer with time. Half the time I think he'll cut it off entirely, the next moment he looks like he can't live without me.

“A decent person wouldn't make me decide that,” he says.

“I decided, but you didn't like it,” I say, dangerously close to snapping because I don't know what game he's trying to play.

Kai closes his eyes for a moment, gathers himself and goes back to staring at the floor. “I didn't come here to fight,” he says. “Last night, it was... I said things I didn't mean.”

“It's like this every time,” I say. “What's different this time?”

There's so much emotion in him, I think, watching him struggle with words. He pushes himself so hard, harder than anyone I know, and we all work hard. Everything else in his life has had to stand down. He and Taemin managed to fit each other in around everything else, but that was as far as his freedom went. Before me, he didn't do anything outside the straight line he'd envisioned. But there's so much emotion in him; so much feeling. Maybe that's why he can't let go of me? I've become the one little escape. The one knot on his perfect, straight line.

“You haven't been thinking about it at all? Worried at all?” he asks.

I've forgotten what we were talking about. Ah right. “Wasn't it the same as it always is?” I wonder.

He shakes his head. “I said... I said some stuff...”

“You called me a bastard,” I help. “Was it the first time for that specific word?”

He looks like he doesn't know what to do. “It doesn't bother you?”

“The time before last time, you said you hated me and didn't want to see me again.”

“I didn't say I hated you! And I told you I didn't mean it right away. This time... this time you left and I thought, I couldn't leave it like this.”

It's one of the mysteries of life that I believe him more when he says he hates me than when he says he doesn't mean it, because he looks the same. I'm not good at spotting lies anyway. “Don't take risks like this. Don't ruin everything you've accompished because of something like that. You could have just called me.”

He shakes his head and looks at me again. “I really couldn't.”

So much feeling, and so beautiful in his determined fragility. Just a few hours ago I was in this room with Hyuk. I can't help but think how incredibly different they are.

Kai takes a step forward. “I couldn't.”

“Before, you said you hate me, and wouldn't see me again, and then we met again a few days later,” I tell him. “This time you called me a bastard, and here you are. I'm not that good-looking.”

He smiles, a little smirk that pulls up one corner of his mouth, and I can't help but smile at him. “It's not how you look, is it,” Kai says, shyly stepping into my space. A sweep of long, dark lashes as he pauses, embarrassed but not about to let that stop him. “It's about what you do.” Finally his eyes meet mine.

Damned he's beautiful. I keep thinking it, yet every time it hits me just as hard. Like it's too complex to be stored in memory; like a melody that keeps evolving each time you listen to it, so when that drop comes, it's like a punch in the jaw you know is coming but can't defend against. And he's just standing there, watching me through half-closed eyes, waiting for me to make the move. He never makes the move.

Except he did, last night. In front of Taemin, no less. Angry and irrational, he actually was the one who kissed me first, I realize. And like an unexpected adlib in a familiar song, I'm struck with the thought that something _did_ happen yesterday, something that was different from all the other times. I'm not sure why or what it was, but he's right. He's threatened to never see me again more than once, have walked away angry more than once, and here he is, still standing there waiting for me to take him. But this time, I brush a thumb over those pretty dark lashes and I wonder if this might be the last time. He's tired, I know that. All those emotions are tearing him apart. I'm tearing him apart, but he breaks so beatifully. I curl my fingers around his neck and pull him in and watch his eyes fall shut as his lips brush mine.

I'm in too deep when the door opens to do anything about it. My mind is buried in him, in Kai. I only half manage to care, turn my head and find Hyuk. Wide-eyed, our maknae quickly slips inside. I see a hint of N-hyung's red shirt before the door closes. Hyuk's eyes goes between us twice. Kai has also stayed, not pulled back in fear, just meets Hyuk's eyes steadily. Somehow he knows as well, I realize. Maybe Hyuk said or did something when he opened the door that gave it away.

Is it here? The storm.

Hyuk licks his lips. I don't know why he came inside, and he doesn't seem to know either, but his mind is working on something. He's a clever, fearless kid. I wait, wondering what he'll come up with. “It's you that hyung played basketball with yesterday, right?”

Kai glances briefly at me. Then nods. “Yeah.”

“You shouldn't let him be out so late. N-hyung will give him trouble, and he was tired this morning.”

It triggers something in Kai, I think, to be spoken to like that. He's youngest in EXO, he doesn't have the experience of dongsaengs disrespecting him. “You ask,” he says, “so that means you didn't know about me?” He's stood up straight now, raised his chin, using all his length. It's a fight.

“I don't need to know about you. I know hyung,” Hyuk says, and looks at me.

Is it possible? Could this innocent kid have figured out what Kai seems to struggle with so terribly? I was wondering what Hyuk would think, but it seems I hadn't needed to worry. Could it be that he understands? _I know hyung_. No one has ever understood. How could he? I turn it over in my head, while Kai's eyes burn into Hyuk.

“Do you mind?” Kai says. “We were having a private conversation.”

“The hyungs are getting impatient, I can't stall them much longer,” Hyuk says. “Better hurry up your private conversation.” He turns around and leaves, slipping through as small of a crack as he can before he shuts the door and I hear him say something to N-hyung.

I lock the door to be sure. Didn't I lock it before? Right, Hyuk has figured out how to unlock it with a coin. Damned kid. “Kai...” I start.

He's laughing. Laughing quietly into his hand, hugging his body with the other arm. He's shouted and cursed at me, shoved and pulled, but this is the first time he's scared me. When he comes up he runs his hand though his hair, and it's that punch to the gut again, that feeling of suddenly rediscovering how unbelievably beautiful he is. He smiles, a little sad, and he says, “I want you to know, that I love you.”

Maybe today is the last time. I smile back, and I think that because of his constant crisises, because he's been so much more demanding than any guy I've ever met, I've been forced to think about him a lot more. Think about us. I've gotten used to it now. The constant fighting, the chaotic secret meetings, wondering what he's thinking now or misunderstood this time or when he's going to call next. I think, that I don't want this to be the last time. I think, it would be selfish to tell him the truth, because the truth is that I love him too and he wouldn't believe me. He wouldn't understand. For him, love is something singular, something sacred. One person to give your everything. I love him, but also Hyuk, and many other people. If I tell him the truth, he will hold on to me, and keep breaking forever. So I do what he's always wanted – needed – me to do. I lie.

“You know I like hanging out with you, but...” His eyes close in pain. I wait, but nothing more happens. “I'm sorry,” I add.

“It's okay, I know you don't,” he says, voice not entirely steady. He takes a new breath. “I just wanted you to know. Because that kid, he loves you too, you know. And he's your member. You have to be careful.” He wipes his eyes, no tears but perhaps the ghost feeling of them. “I have to get back.”

“I'll see you later,” I say like I always say every time.

He just nods and leaves.

I turn off the shower and accidentally meet my own eyes in the mirror. I could pretend that what I did was noble. That I sacrificed something to save him future pain. But it's not the eyes of a hero that I look into, and it's not the feeling of a noble sacrifice that settles in around my spine. I look away.

Hyuk comes in, smiling, impishly pretending that he isn't. “Everything okay, hyung?”

I don't know what he's so happy about. For sure he's building castles of sand that I'll have to tear down someday, becoming the bad guy again, but it doesn't matter. I don't know if I'm okay, much less if everything is. “I'm fine, it's fine,” I tell Hyuk, and dodge away from the other members to find my phone.

It doesn't matter if I'm okay, because it's never about that. Under my members' songs, I open a new project. I don't know why, but suddenly, maybe because of the thought that this might be the last time I saw him, I need to put it all down. Record the feeling, my feeling for him. One day this'll all be gone, it could be taken away tomorrow, and then I want to be able to look back and remember what it was like to ride the waves. What it was like to live.

 

* * *

 

 

**Part 4 – Kai – Love**

I lean my head against the car window. I would have wanted to stay in that practice room with Taemin forever. But by stay, I mean hide, and neither he nor I would allow that. Nor would our managers.

The window glass is cold enough that I feel it through my hair. I feel oddly calm. The storm that raged this morning left behind this strangely empty hole in my chest. A sense of _and then what_ , because there was no proper explosion. I feel my hands curl in on themselves, thinking that I should have punched him, but I'm not sure if I mean Ravi or Hyuk. I should have punched Ravi. But I wanted to punch Hyuk.

I don't know what he sees in Hyuk. Maybe, I think, watching the world rush by, maybe he doesn't need to see anything. Hyuk is his dongsaeng and his member, maybe it's just a convenient arrangement, maybe it doesn't mean anything. I already knew he sees other guys. What does it matter who those guys are. If casual sex isn't beneath him, then what's to say Hyuk isn't casual.

And me? Am I casual too?

It didn't feel casual, the way he kissed me before Hyuk showed up. I know how casual feels; it's how he kisses me after we've had sex, when he's relaxed and forgets himself and the real him comes out. I think it's the real him. The one that just loses himself in the moment with no mind for consequences. Every time I see him like that, with the professional facade washed off and the scheming businessman on vacation, I feel priviledged. He'll talk without reservation about the things that matter to him. VIXX, the music, the business, the experience. His mind is beautiful, I think. I bend my body to the will of the music every day, and he's the one that bends the music. Maybe that's why I can't get him out of my mind; my body. Maybe that's what keeps me coming back.

Nothing's to say the others don't see that too. Very likely he gets like that whenever he gets off, whoever it's with, but I still feel like there's something different in how he is with me. Is it just wishful thinking?

I close my eyes. Remember. Remember his hands, caressing my body, leaving glowing trails behind. Remember his voice, humming a soft tune in my ear as if he knew of the control music has over me. Even now, in the cold car, I shudder at the memory as if his lips were pressed against my ear this moment, his tight, hard body pressed against mine. I shift, and an involuntary sigh slips out. As if I'm falling asleep, I fold the hood of my sweater up, hoping no one will speak to me; hoping no one will notice.

And I remember the weight of him, pushing me down into the mattress. The heat of his body, of his desire, uncomfortably warm because I'm burning up, and as I'm panting at him to hurry up he just smiles at me and strong fingers close around my thighs in iron grips before he thrusts inside me. I'll never forget that moment, the first time, our eyes locked together as he entered me; filled me up like nothing has ever come close to, in every way possible. I'll never forget how he looked at me, how his voice sounded amazed for some reason, when he said, breathlessly, “You're so damned beautiful,” before groaning a little at the effort of not slamming in too fast and too hard. I know I was difficult; I know he had to work for it. It wasn't on purpose; I was scared and everything was new and overwhelming, but in hindsight I think it made him want me more.

Overwhelming was the word for all of it. Like I couldn't make sense of all the sensations. I remember thinking that he saw me. Really _saw_ me. Saw _me_ , if that makes any sense. It almost made me cry. But then he started moving, started fucking me for real, his breaths marking the beat that my body had to dance to this time, and I forgot about it, because there wasn't really enough left of me to think about anything but the moment.

I think about it now, at last. I came here to be seen. I worked this hard and sacrificed everything to be seen, and yet, even on stage I have this gnawing feeling sometimes that nobody really sees me. That maybe I worked _too_ hard, and too much and maybe I learned too well how to get here, so that once I finally reached that stage, I didn't know how to just be me anymore. I try, because I want the fans to know me, I want to be as honest with them as they are with us, but it's difficult. And every now and then I get this feeling that nobody really sees me. It's silly, I know, but it's like I turn translucent and they look right through me. As if I'm the front and the real person is behind me, except when I turn around there's no one there. I have nightmares about it. That there's nothing inside because I've worked so hard on the outside.

It sounds contradictory even to myself, but whenever he says that cheesy line, _you're so beautiful_ , I feel like I'm seen. Like he sees into me, not through me, and I find the person that I sometimes lose sight of; myself.

After that first time, I thought maybe the feeling of not being seen was because there were secrets I was hiding even from myself. He was the one who showed me, the one who dug up the real me and held it up for me to notice. Although I can't exactly go shout from rooftops that I'm gay, I thought it would get better once I accepted it myself, but I still get the feeling of being incomplete.

He likes to talk during sex, maybe it's a rapper thing, how would I know. I huddle up some more, pull the sweater tighter around myself and cuddle up to the car door and let him say the lines in my head. “You're so beautiful,” is some kind of trigger; every time it's as if he's forgotten and suddenly realizes. And then he likes to tease; “Do you want it?” and “Tell me you want it,” getting off on it, especially because it still makes me blush to say anything; I'm not used to it yet. Maybe I'll never be, I smile to myself. Talking is difficult, for me, but I love listening to him. “You need me,” he'll say, and it's somehow both already true and made true because he says it, “You need me inside you, baby, you need someone to fill you up, and I'll give it to you so good. You want my cock so bad, you'll look so good on it, you know you want it. You know you want me all the way inside you, fucking you wide open, yeah, you can't wait, I know.” He's an obnoxious bastard, but I love it.

And he's right. I need someone to fill me up. It's the only thing that makes that feeling go away; it's the only way to feel seen. Maybe I went into the wrong line of work.

I chuckle bitterly at that thought. I don't know, of course, but I don't think it's like that. I don't think it would feel the same with just anyone else. If I asked him, he'd tell me to try it. He has no interest in holding on to me for himself. If I never called him again, he wouldn't give a damned. He has Hyuk and who knows how many others that can warm his bed and his body whenever he feels up for it.

Does he say the same things to them?

Suddenly I feel sick. I try to push it down but it rolls through my body like a tidal wave, I can't stop it. “Stop, stop the car,” I call out, and there's some fussing and discussion but I keep yelling and we pull over and I tumble out. We're on a bridge. I stumble over to the railing and grab it with both hands, staring down into the water, and for a moment, for one insane second, I think I should just jump. It's not that I want to kill myself, I think I just want to fly. But then it's over and I throw up. There's nothing to throw up because I haven't eaten yet today, but my body still tries. It's over in a minute. I get back into the car, find a bottle of water.

I convince our manager to not tell the members or anyone else. I'm just tired and stressed, I didn't eat anything and worked too hard with Taemin, it's fine, I tell him. But I make him promise to not tell the members. It would just worry them uselessly, but more importantly, Baekhyun knows too much. Baekhyun is a hyung who might do stupid things, if he thought someone mistreated a dongsaeng. Not always, but sometimes. I can't risk telling him. He knows I'm seeing someone, that much I couldn't keep from his nosy prying, but he doesn't know who. He'll never know who.

Taemin is the only person in the world who knows. No, that's not true. Hyuk, too. I wipe my mouth and curl up. I think that I should cry, but I don't feel like crying. There's no tears.

Taemin is the only person in the world that I trust with the truth. No matter what, Taemin has always been and will always be on my side. He can be mischivous and play around, but I've never once doubted him; I've never once had any reason to. And like usual, he exceeded my expectations; he wasn't even angry that I hadn't told him, didn't get uncomfortable talking about a guy, didn't judge me for being an idiot who plays along in Wonshik's game.

I can't believe Wonshik said that Taemin might cut his losses and break off our friendship. That, if anything, says everything there is to say about him. Obnoxious bastard.

We arrive. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and call him once I'm sure no one is nearby.

“Hey,” he says, exactly like usual. Nothing ever fazes him. No doubt he came up with some excuse for why I was there to tell the members. With Hyuk to back him up too, he could keep this secret forever. And damned it, but I smile at the sound of his voice. Because nothing ever fazes him, and in some sense, even if he's a bastard, at least he's consistent. A solid, unmoving fact in a business that moves like the ocean.

“Can you talk?” I ask.

“I got a minute or two,” he says casually. It's just code between us for if it's safe to say unsafe things. This one means it's safe for me to speak but not for him.

“I have to ask you something,” I say.

“Shoot.”

“Do you talk to other people like you do to me? I mean, in bed.”

“Hm,” he says, “what do you mean?”

“The things you say. Do you say them to everyone else too?”

“To be honest I'm not sure I remember what I say.”

It's not that I don't have anything to say, it's that I want to say too many things at once. I hang up. A moment later he calls me.

“What do you want me to say,” he says. His voice is lowered; he's trying to have this conversation despite being somewhere not entirely safe.

“The truth,” I say.

“Every time I try the truth, you get angry.”

“Maybe because you're an insensitive bastard.”

“So if I tell the truth I'm insensitive, and if I lie I'm a liar?”

“Have I ever called you a liar?”

He sighs. “I never talk during sex other than with you.”

I bite my lip. Damned him. “Liar.”

“There. Fine. Good. Can I go now.”

My stomach is preparing, I can feel it. I don't want to throw up again, but I also need to know. “But what do you say?”

“What do I say? Do you want me to repeat it? You've heard it.”

“But do you say the same things?”

“Okay,” he says, “I'm trying here, but I honestly don't know exactly what I say. It just comes out, it feels natural.”

“Try to remember.”

“Tell me what I say, then.”

“No.”

“It'll help me remember! Do you want to know or not?”

I grit my teeth. “You just... you say stuff like... _you want it_ and... you say, _you need me to fill you up_.” I feel myself blushing and hide my face in my hands, sitting cross-legged on the toilet seat.

“Hmm,” he says, not teasing me for once. “I don't think I say the exact same things, no. Well, the whole _you want it_ stuff, yeah, but not the rest. It's not like I plan it out... I say what comes naturally, so I guess that's what I'm thinking.”

I pause. My stomach has settled, I feel relieved, maybe that's why I can say, “You think I'm needy?”

He laughs. It's a good-natured laugh though, a laugh that says, _you're so cute_.

I don't dare to ask again.

“I have to go,” he says.

I don't want him to go. I want to sit here in this bathroom that echoes every so slightly, cross-legged on a toilet seat with my hood up, talking to him comfortably like this forever. No more fighting. No more heart breaking. No more other people. Just us.

My silence is too long. “Jongin,” he says. “Are you still there? I have to go.”

“Okay,” I say.

Another pause, and, “Are we okay?”

Are we?

I think of what he's saying, voice rough with desire and at the same time sweet as honey. _You need me. You need me to fill you up, look at you, so beautiful, just waiting for my cock. I'm going to fuck you, Jongin-ah. I'm going to fuck you and you're gonna come harder than you've ever done in your life._ Always like that. Always commanding reality before it happens. No questions, no hesitation.

“You love me,” I say. It's just a test, a pointless trial; a wish. But then I hear him let out a breath that sounds like relief and amazement, and it's true, it works, I've commanded the world and made it into what I want it to be. “You're a liar, and you love me.”

“Waah,” he says softly. “I've been found out.”

And I know he won't change. I know tomorrow night, he might be whispering in some other hoobae or old childhood friend's ear, and I know the day after tomorrow I'll be calling him like some psychotic ex and demand to know if he did, and probably eventually end up in his bed, and it was killing me. It was tearing me apart.

But love, love changes things.

“Say it,” I command.

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Why don't you come over tonight and make me?”

“Don't play games,” I say. “Say it.”

“Come on.”

“Please. I want to hear it. I need to.”

He laughs again. “So needy.”

“Wonshik-hyung.”

I feel like I can see his face. See his smile and the way his eyes see right into me. _See_ me, like no one else ever has. “I love you.” It sounds strange coming out of his mouth. Unfamiliar. I don't know, of course, but I get the feeling that it's not a phrase said too often, in private. That maybe, possibly...

“Do you tell other people that too?”

“Aish!” he says, and I've pushed too far. “Why are you like this?” I want to explain that I'm not angry, that I'm not asking because I'm possessive and jealous and want to make trouble, but because I'm happy. That whatever the answer is, I'll be happy for the truth. But he goes on to say, “Sometimes I think it would be better if you just stopped calling me. Aren't you tired of me yet?”

What? “Are you breaking up with me?”

“There's nothing to break up; we're not together.”

“You just said you love me!”

“That doesn't mean we're married!”

“What, that's... you are such an asshole!”

“Oh yeah, I feel really loved now.”

“Fuck you.”

“As if you have the balls to actually do it.”

I hang up.

As I stare at the phone, I think, nothing ever changes. He's never going to change, and neither am I. What am I fighting for?

 _See me tonight_ , I type into the message window, but don't send it.

What did I think? That he was above saying he loved me just to get what he wants? I can't decide if I believe him. If he really loved me, shouldn't I be enough?

I call Taemin. He's busy, but I call just to hear the ringtones. After three, he suddenly picks up and answers and I don't know what to say.

“Hi,” I hear myself mumble.

“What's up?” he asks.

“Do you love me?” I ask. This is getting out of hand.

“Yeah,” he says. Like I'd asked if he likes kimchi or wants to grab a coffee later.

“Waah.”

“What, why, you don't love me?”

“Of course I do. I just. Well. This is how it should be, isn't it? It should be this simple to say it.”

“Oh, we're talking about that. I half thought you were on some radio show prank calling me. Um, I can't talk a lot right now, but I've got all night if you need to.”

“Am I needy?”

Taemin laughs. “No. Much less than my hyungs, in any case. What's with all this?”

I'm only like this to Wonshik because he's a bastard. Because he makes me so insecure. I hate him. All of it; he's right, I'm tired of it. “He said he loves me, but now I think I should dump him.”

“Good riddance?” Taemin says. And I know he's my friend first, but it's still nice that he takes my side so clearly. Wonshik is his friend too, after all.

“But the sex is amazing.”

Taemin laughs again, refusing to be scandalized, bright and happy and strangely carefree. “Jongin,” he says, “do you want to give up because you really don't want to do it anymore, or because you think you're not strong enough? Because I know one thing. I know you're strong enough to do what you set your mind to.”

“People don't change,” I say.

“I don't know,” he says. “I feel like I've changed, lately. Maybe it's not that. Maybe it's that you can't change other people; you can only change yourself.”

I tease him for being such a deep philosopher, but nothing can take him down today. When I hang up I have a new message.

 _See me tonight_.

He never asks. I'm always the one who asks, and he's always the one who initiates once we're there. I stare at it, deciding to answer later, and I think, maybe Taemin's right, maybe we can't change each other, but we can change ourselves.

And love, love changes things.

 

 

**END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you like it! >:3 
> 
> drop me a comment; good, bad, anything you want ^^


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